


The Holy Bath

by pantalaimon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Body Swap, Dining at the Ritz (Good Omens), Episode: s01e06 The Very Last Day of the Rest of Their Lives, Fluff, M/M, Pining, The Bath Scene, body switch, ineffable husbands, they drink too much wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 14:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19747351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantalaimon/pseuds/pantalaimon
Summary: Crowley is a goon and he can't handle it when Aziraphale thinks he's hot.





	The Holy Bath

The Ritz was polished especially sparkling that day, not that it was ever anything less than absolutely gorgeous. Soft music, perfect lighting, and the building itself seemed to sense whenever Aziraphale and Crowley dined there. The silverware positively gleamed whenever the angel and demon dropped in for a meal. 

This evening was their first time back since the events of Armageddon. Well, the failed Armageddon. Crowley was swirling his glass of crystal clear wine, a troubled look on his face. 

Aziraphale flicked his eyes up from cutting into a delectable looking steak when he noticed how quiet Crowley was. 

“What’s the matter, dear?”

After a pause, Crowley replied. “Well, I told you that a column of hellfire was waiting for me upstairs when I got there- er, well, when _you _got there, but you never really specified the way they were going to kill you- _me _with holy water.”____

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___Aziraphale frowned at this, and slowed his chewing so that he could respond. “Whatever do you mean, what kind of holy water did you think it was?”_ _ _

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___Crowley gestured vaguely. “Could be anything! My first thought was that they were going to make you drink it, but that’s rather horrid, isn’t it?”_ _ _

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___Aziraphale patted his mouth with a napkin. “Heavens no, it was just a bath, Crowley. I just got in and… splashed around a bit, flicked some water, the whole nine yards, really.”_ _ _

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___Crowley immediately flushed as red as his hair, and nearly as red as Aziraphale’s wine. Unfortunately (depending on who you were in this situation), the waiter swooped in at just that moment to refill their glasses, seemingly unaware of what their conversation was about._ _ _

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___Crowley sputtered and gasped. “A- a BATH? Were you- was I _NAKED? _” The waiter, trained for years, did not flinch at the question, although he might have started pouring the wine almost unnoticeably slower.___ _ _

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___“Good lord, no!” Aziraphale also seemed a bit flustered by the presence of the waiter during this reveal, but he remained much calmer than Crowley. “I made sure you kept your underclothes quite firmly on, socks and all. Although,” he added, eyes trained on the glass in his hand, a small smile on his face. “I wasn’t aware that you were quite so fit underneath all those black clothes you wear.” He took a small dainty sip and looked up to enjoy the chaos he had caused._ _ _

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___Crowley, in attempt to regain his cool, had been in the middle of a drink from his newly refilled wine glass, and the waiter was maybe two steps away from the table, nearly craning his neck to remain within earshot of the conversation. It all seemed to happen in slow motion really. At Aziraphale’s comment, Crowley’s eyes went wide and he managed to inhale some of his wine up his nose, starting a horrendous choking and spluttering noise that resulted in him slamming his other hand onto the table. The hand in question upset a rather precariously balanced fork, sending it hurtling through the air towards the waiter’s face. The waiter noticed this and reacted quite fast, although Aziraphale was faster. The waiter’s hand was just barely moving upwards to try and catch the fork when Aziraphale twitched his fingers and the utensil vanished into the air._ _ _

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___Time snapped back to normal, and there was very much a commotion in the Ritz that morning. Crowley was gesturing to a second waiter that he was fine thanks, just went down the wrong pipe, while the first waiter was darting his eyes around, hand still raised up gingerly to his face._ _ _

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___“But, the- the fork, where’s it gone?”_ _ _

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___Aziraphale pretended to not know what in the world he was talking about, while Crowley patted down his front, attempting to soak up some of his spilled wine. He was still beet red, and could barely look Aziraphale in the eye._ _ _

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___“You’re just going to say things like that, are you, in the middle of the Ritz of all places!”_ _ _

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___Aziraphale smiled fondly at him. “My dear, you can’t react this badly every time someone finds you attractive, you’ll choke on your wine every time we meet!” If it was possible for Crowley to go redder, he did. Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, a flying fork may or may not have struck the angel Gabriel in the left arm._ _ _

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End file.
